


The Ones That Stay Behind

by Realization (MidnightCraze)



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-01
Updated: 2014-08-01
Packaged: 2018-02-11 09:39:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2063235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidnightCraze/pseuds/Realization
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michey leaves Liverpool, and Jamie is a mess.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ones That Stay Behind

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [להגיד שזה בסדר](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13331994) by [Realization (MidnightCraze)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidnightCraze/pseuds/Realization). 



> My English might not be perfect. If your English is good and you want to put your time in it - feel free to correct my mistakes and tell me about it in my mail: fukuayame@gmail.com  
> My mail box is opened also if you want to just rant on random things!  
> Now, I need some help, if you'd like:  
> 1) I need a beta for a long Gerlonso I want to write (I'm thinking in the direction of 50K, fluff and stuff)  
> 2) I also need a beta for a One Direction fic about Louis and and OFC (also a long one, a really cute one)
> 
> So contact me if you're interested!

When Mickey leaves Stevie tells Jamie everything will be alright, that the pain will pass and the feeling of betrayal will reduce. Jamie just stares at him with a blank face and nods.

Mickey doesn't just leave Jamie or the club. Before Jamie can even process the news, his boyfriend is in Spain, wearing white and scoring goals for Real Madrid, and Jamie sits on his couch in England and watches him on TV, and maybe his heart get a little more broken every time he celebrates with his teammates.

"Snap out of it, mate," Stevie says one evening. "He is gone. I know it hurts and I understand it is hard to move on, but this –" he gestures around Jamie's living room, but he means to say _everything_ , "– this cannot go on like that. It's not healthy."

"He is in fucking Spain," Jamie murmurs quietly, his eyes fixed on a crack in the wall behind his television.

"I know, Carra. I know."

 

But the thing is, Jamie thinks he doesn't know; thinks he has no clue. Mickey was his friend, was so much than a friend. Steven Gerrard was his closest friend, but Michael Owen was the person he ended his days with, the one he curled up against at night in the dim moonlight breaching through the thin curtains.

His bed feels empty without him, his house cold and lonely. Four years together are not something one can simply forget, are not easy to erase. There are memories all around him, wherever he goes, be it his home or the city.

The locker rooms are the place of their first kiss, the café around the corner of his street their first date. And it was his bed where they made love for the first time, losing themselves and their careers in the darkness.

 

Stevie is there for him, whether Jamie thinks he understands or not. Stevie spends a few nights a week in his house, laughing and trying to make him forget, and he takes him out to bars to watch footie with the people of Liverpool.

Jamie never tells him that, but he is grateful for his efforts. And somehow, the pain eases. It never goes away, but he manages to stick it in the back of his mind for days – weeks – until one day he lies in bed and it floats again, and then it hurts all over again.

 

There is a new boy in the club, Xabi Alonso. He is friendly even though he seems to struggle with the language, and he has a good sense of humor, so in less than two months he manages to find his place in the team.

Jamie watches as Stevie falls in love.

"Love?" Steven sneers over his bottle of beer when Jamie mentions the word. "No, I don't think so, Carra."

"You've been staring," Jamie says.

Stevie raises his eyebrows, his forehead wrinkled and his face confused. "No I haven't."

Jamie sighs. "No, you haven't." But Jamie knows Steven Gerrard better than anyone else, and he can see his best friend pays more attention to the Spaniard than he does for others, and he catches the quick glances of the Scouser during practices and in the locker rooms and in matches. He says nothing, though. This isn't his business.

 

There are knocks on his door at 1:30am. He is ready to yell at the rude person who knocks on people's door in such hour when he sees Mickey behind it. He keeps standing where he is, not letting him in.

"Hey, Jamie," Mickey says, Carra's name sounding soft and delicate on his lips.

There are so many things he can say that moment. He can greet him back or tell him to fuck off, or he can ask him why in hell is he in Liverpool. He can ask why is he there now, four months after coming back from Spain.

He remains silent.

"I missed you," Mickey whispers. "I missed you so much."

And this is his breaking point. He leans forward and grabs Mickey's hands, pulling him inside. Once the door is closed he presses him against it and crashes their lips together.

The feeling is so familiar and so overwhelming that he can barely stay on his feet. Breathing heavily, he takes a step forward and looks into Mickey's warm eyes.

A thousand thoughts cross his mind, one mixing with the other and forgotten with a third. He decides they can talk later, so he takes Mickey in his arms again and leads him down the hall and into his bedroom, and he fucks Mickey into the mattress, burying his face in the crook of his neck until they are both exhausted and lying motionless, their breaths the only sounds in the dark room.

Jamie stares at the ceiling. "It's too late, Mickey," he finally says, his voice cracking a little when he says the name.

He hears a heavy breath from Mickey's side. "I know."

And it's over.

 

"I love him," Steven tells him during the summer break. It sounds more like he just realizes it than something he has been putting some thought into for weeks, months.

Jamie doesn't need to ask who he is talking about. "Does he know?"

Stevie shakes his head. "Fuck, Carra. What am I supposed to do with this?"

"It's not that hard, lad. You're halfway through it already." He smiles when Stevie raises his eyebrows. "Accepting that you love someone is the hardest part, isn't it? The rest is a game."

 

Sometimes, at night, Jamie still cries. James Lee Duncan Carragher, the man who never cries, lets the tears fall down his face when no one can see it. He doesn't tell anyone, not even Steven, that deep down he still misses Michael Owen.

He probably always will.

 

It takes him another six months, but then the moment comes when Stevie tells him that he and Xabi are together. He beams at him, his smile the wider Jamie as ever seen on his face, and his eyes shining bright when he says the words.

Jamie smiles and laughs and congratulates him. He hopes they will be good.

 

They are, for three and a half years. And then Xabi Alonso Olano goes to Real Madrid and Steven George Gerrard is left at home, shattered.

"Is this what you felt?" Stevie asks, tears filling his eyes.

Jamie nods.

When Mickey left, Stevie told Jamie everything would be alright, that the pain would pass and the feeling of betrayal reduce. When Xabi leaves, Jamie says nothing of this kind. Because he knows it won't be alright. He knows it too well.


End file.
